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A Red, Red Rose
- I
- O, my luve is like a red, red rose,
- That's newly sprung in June.
- O, my luve is like the melodie,
- That's sweetly play'd in tune.
- II
- As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
- So deep in luve am I,
- And I will luve thee still, my dear,
- Till a' the seas gang dry.
- III
- Take a'the seas gang dry, my dear,
- And the rocks melt wi' the sun!
- And I will luve thee still, my dear,
- While the sands o'life shall run.
- IV
- And fare thee weel, my only luve,
- And fare thee weel a while!
- And I will come again, my luve,
- Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
Robert Burns (1759-1796)
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